Before she could recall she was not the lively, carefree girl she’d once been but the severe, joyless woman she’d been forced to become. This was no pleasant drawing room flirtation. This was the beginning of her fall from grace if she but allowed it, cat or no.
“Tell me, my darling Eleanora, how many bedchambers of dissolute princes have you visited?” he asked, his voice silken.
“Only one,” she answered tartly. “And I am not, nor shall I ever be, your darling.”
“Hmm,” was all he said in response, a noncommittal hum that suggested he didn’t believe her denial whatsoever.
She wouldn’t be distracted or goaded by him, she decided sternly.
“The cat,” she reminded him. “You found him in the streets?”
“In a positively dreadful stew,” the prince confirmed, still idly stroking the feline’s soft-looking fur as Benvolio lovingly rubbed his face against Nando’s arm. “Near a house of ill repute, if you must know, though I’m ashamed to admit it now. The little fellow was meowing quite loudly, and he had the biggest eyes I’d ever seen on a cat. I petted him and could feel each bone in his spine beneath my hand. He was clearly in need of food, and I was in wont of a companion.” He flashed her a grin. “The rest is history, I reckon.”
Nando had rescued a starving cat from the streets. Of course, in true rakehell fashion, it had been during a visit to a brothel. Eleanora could not quite tamp down the stinging tide of jealousy that rose inside her at the thought.
He gave the cat a few more fond caresses and then turned back toward her, giving Eleanora his full attention. “But Benvolio was not my reason for inviting you to my bedroom this evening.”
“What was, then?” she dared to ask, even though part of her feared his answer.
And her own response to it.
Because she didn’t even trust herself any longer. Not when it came to this maddening, alluring, dangerously seductive man.
“To tell you that I am leaving.”
The heat burning inside her turned abruptly to ash, and all she felt was cold. Cold, cold dread. The ferocity of her reaction surprised her. What had she expected of him? He had summoned her to him for one last attempt at seduction before he left.
“You are leaving England?” she asked through numb lips.
He drew to a halt before her, his impossibly blue gaze searing hers. “Would you miss me if I were?”
“Do not toy with me, if you please,” she bit out, horrified to discover her hands were trembling with the force of her emotion.She sank her fingers into her muslin skirts, clenching tightly so he wouldn’t see. “Answer the question.”
“I’m leaving this town house,” he said simply. “Not England.”
Relief flooded her, followed quickly by alarm. “But Princess Anastasia said Mr. Tierney feared you remained in great peril. It was the reason we avoided the ball meant to honor the princesses. You should not leave with such haste.”
“It’s hardly haste. I’ve been here for what seems an eternity. You were the only bright light in an otherwise dark and dismal stay.”
His words were gratifying, but he was still leaving. And the effect his imminent departure was having upon her was just as distressing. She very much did not want him to go. It astonished her to realize that she felt the same way about the prince—he had been a bright spot in an otherwise arduous routine of drudgery.
She cared for her charges; of course she did. But that didn’t mean her task wasn’t a thankless one. She had spent each day in breathless anticipation of seeing him again, of crossing his path and drawing nearer to him. He was like the sun, bringing light and warmth to all in his presence, and she was the moon, a creature of darkness, doomed to dwell only in the night. To scarcely be seen and oft ignored.
“Your presence here will be missed,” she said quietly, her throat thick with suppressed emotion. “But I understand your desire to return to your own home. However, can you not see the danger?”
“The danger doesn’t concern me,” Nando told her easily. “It never did, and now Tierney has reassured me this evening that I need no longer fret over another such attempt.”
“I am relieved for you.” More relieved than she could convey. More relieved than she had imagined possible.
Good heavens, it was almost as if she had begun to develop tender feelings for this man, this prince who could never be hers.
“Thank you.” He reached for her, taking one of her hands from the folds of her gown and grasping it. “But that’s not all I need to tell you.”
Heat chased up her arm from the connection, bringing the fervor of her desire for him back to life. “I don’t understand.”
He brought her knuckles to his lips for a lingering kiss that was somehow every bit as intimate as his mouth on her most private flesh the night before. She felt it to her toes.
When he had finished, he raised his head, entrapping her gaze with his. “When I go, I want you to accompany me.”
